Riders On The Storm
by RescueSquad51
Summary: Kindly inspired by Madi - Cap's thoughts as he waits for Roy and Johnny to return from a difficult rescue.


Hello again, and welcome to my latest story.

Again, it's been inspired by the wonderful Madi. As 'Team Dad' you have to wonder how Cap feels when Roy and Johnny are called out on their own. So with thanks again to Madi, here's Cap's point of view as he, and the rest of the crew, wait for them to return from a difficult rescue.

This one's for you, hon. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Riders On The Storm

It's hard to explain what I feel each time I send them on these callouts. Hell, I've had enough sleepless nights to try defining it myself!

I mean, they're both full grown adults. Well, one of 'em is. But for all the grey hairs I swear they cause me, I'm not that much older than they are. Just three years for Roy, and... yeah, more like thirty for his puppy-nut of a partner. So in terms of age, I'm more their big brother than the father figure I feel I am to them.

I guess it's all part of being their captain. When your job's as dangerous as ours, you can't help but let that bit of parent in you come through too. And you do what every parent does when you send your kids out into the big bad world. You tell your imagination to shut the hell up. They're going to be fine.

Yeah, of course they can handle themselves. God, they've faced situations that not even I could see coming, and come through them unscathed. With Roy there to protect him, Johnny must feel like the luckiest kid brother on Earth. And in those rare times where that role is reversed, I know Roy feels the same. Damn, if those two haven't raised the art of watching each other's backs to a whole new level.

Yet still this threat to their lives remains. And it's times like these when I feel it most. Sending them out there, into God knows what, without us there to back them up. And this sounds... bad.

A college trip out to Catalina. Four students in a hopelessly ill-suited yacht, caught in a storm where even the best sailor would stay at home. At two in the morning. Yeah, kids. Sunrises can be just as cool when you _stay on the mainland_.

With so many extra risks to them, these night-time calls are the worst. I used to think daytimes were okay. That they'd be safe in conditions where they could see, and _be_ seen. But that was before we nearly lost Roy last week in that crash. Out of the blue, in broad daylight.

Damn idiot. How anyone can hit an ambulance on a full red light run is beyond me. Anyone who does shouldn't be on the road to start with, or ever let out on it again, but... yeah, I'll let Vince handle that. I'll just pour myself another mug of coffee, and try to ignore the sound of that rain.

03:20. Three hours now, since they were called out. The point where you just pray that no news really is the best kind you can hope for. Where you convince yourself that they've made it to Rampart, with both themselves and the squad in one piece.

Yet I can still feel them. The knots in my gut that I can never let show. When they should be safe in their beds, my boys are out there. Laying their lives on the line, in one _hell_ of a storm.

For them, of course, it's all part of the job. Just as it's mine to stay near Big Red, so if that call for help comes, we're all ready to roll.

And yeah, I know what you're thinking. You've got a dorm right next to her. Why don't you just hit your bunks, and get some sleep while you're waiting?

Well, there's another thing that, unless you're a part of it, you can't really understand. Because this isn't like being a parent, waiting for your kids to come home from school, or their ball-game, or anything else in their still innocent lives.

This is life in a much harder, more dangerous world. This is sending your brothers out with no thought of the risk to their own, while you stay behind. Hoping to God they'll come home in one piece. Or just... come home.

No thought? Well, no. Not for them. It's what they do. The calling they've both chosen to answer. But for me? No thought? Hell, don't you believe it.

From the moment I get the call to when I see the squad reversing back into her bay, that unthinkable ' _what if'_ never leaves your mind. It's the bond that ties this crew, this family, together. Everything that I'm feeling right now, I know Mike, Marco and Chet feel it too. For every hour, every minute, that I watch and wait for Johnny and Roy to come home, so do they.

Chet will joke his way through it. At least, that's what we all let him believe. Marco will make his Mama's best chilli, as if her favourite recipe brings her actual presence in here to share it with us. Yes, she loves these boys as much as her own son. Just ask Johnny, her 'bebe precioso.' He's got the dents in his cheeks to prove it.

And Mike Stoker, my second in command? Yeah, he must have a secret life as a secret agent on covert ops, 'cos... boy, he's got the stealth for it. I swear to God, he can be in the same room as the rest of us, and the first time we'll notice him is when he lets fly with the zingers. Pair him up with DeSoto, and you have living proof that the quiet ones really can be the worst.

And if I don't see him in the day-room? Oh, I know where he'll be instead. If you ever want to see devotion personified, you'll find him curled up on Big Red's hoses. If I'm _really_ quiet, I can play out that priceless time when I picked up what I thought was a discarded turnout, and found my engineer sleeping like a baby beneath it.

Yeah, I just love reminding him of that. Not too much, though. Like I said, he's a secret agent in disguise.

00Stoker. Licensed to zing.

No chance of that tonight. Yeah, that storm is right on top of us now. And no amount of coffee can take away the thought of what they're facing out there.

Roy and Johnny. Our rock and our baby. Out there in the storm of the century, while we sit here in the warm and dry. Watching. Waiting. Wishing we were there to help.

" _Squad 51, returning to quarters_. _ETA five minutes_."

Johnny. _Quiet_ Johnny, and - damn, he sounds beat. With just radio comms between us, I can't yet tell if it's from being cold, wet and tired, or the news at Rampart that he, and Roy, always dread. Even when they've done all they can, and way more besides, losing a patient still hits them harder than they ever deserve.

But they're safe. They're coming home. And even if I don't hear them, I still see the ' _thank_ _God'_ on their faces, before my fellow watchers and waiters slide into their second nature routine. Mike heads for the dorm to tuck an extra blanket onto their bunks, while Marco re-heats that famous chilli. And Chet's there on medic-watch in the doorway.

He's like our very own callout barometer. His reaction's all we'll need to know how this one has gone. If he can razz his kid brother without Roy stepping in to stop it, we'll know it's gone well. If he keeps quiet and steps away, we'll know it hasn't.

Damn, even the squad sounds dead on her tires as she's backed into her bay. Her doors close with a telltale slam. Chet's backing off too, I can see the worry on his face. The raw grief on Roy's, and Johnny's hoarse whisper, tells me the rest.

"None of 'em. None of 'em made it."

 _Damn it_.

As one, we stand to close ranks around them. To offer whatever comfort we can to the brothers whose faces aren't just wet from the rain. As a parent himself, Roy's says it all. For those of four kids who won't see that sunrise, life will never be the same.

Johnny, too, looks shattered. Old before his time. To lose not one but all four of those kids... God, I can't start to imagine what he and Roy must be feeling right now.

Tomorrow, he'll rant over their stupidity at sailing out in such conditions. Tomorrow, Roy will talk him down, as only he seems able to do. But right now, he just sits beside his partner, shaking his head in the same daze of 'what ifs' and 'if onlys'.

I doubt either of them feel the hand that I place on their shoulders. If they hear what I'm saying to them, they're not showing that either.

"Roy... Johnny... I know there's nothing I can say right now. I wish there was. But I know you'll have done everything you could. And if you need to talk it through now, I'll stand you down, and ask Squad 36 to take over. But right now, you need to get out of these clothes. Get warmed up, and get something to eat."

It takes seconds for my squeeze on his shoulder to register, but Roy finally lifts his head enough to nod. His eyes, his voice, hold a pain that I wish to God I could take away from him.

"Th-Thanks, Cap, and... Johnny? Hey, Johnny? C'mon, Junior, let's go."

In silence, they both rise and head for the showers. As Roy's arm slides over Johnny's shoulders, so Johnny's does around his. The burden they'll bear tonight won't be borne alone.

That silence continues when they return, and all through the meal that even Johnny has to force down. But then, they look around them, and finally manage to smile. Even in their darkest hour, they've still seen the same message that every one of us has sent them.

 _'We're here. You won't face this alone_.'

No, they won't. As this crazy family does best, we'll all get them through it. When they're ready, we'll talk it all out. Take the burden of those 'what ifs' and 'if onlys' off their shoulders.

And me? Well, I'm keeping watch a bit longer tonight. I'm taking a few extra moments to stand by their bunks, and watch them sleep.

Mike. Marco. Chet. Then Roy and Johnny, savouring the comfort of those extra blankets. Still facing each other, as they just naturally seem to do. Yeah, I guess they started that talk through already, but that's fine with me. With or without my help, or anyone else's, it's helping them to heal.

My boys are home. All of them are safely home. Now I can smile, and turn in too. And until those tones call us out again, I'll sleep just as soundly.


End file.
